


Code Geass Megiddo: Word Dramas

by WingZeroAlpha173



Category: Code Geass
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:27:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27437314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingZeroAlpha173/pseuds/WingZeroAlpha173
Summary: To every saga, there are always portions that remain apart from the center, which can only be found when one looks hard enough. These are the untold stories of Code Geass Megiddo...
Relationships: Kouzuki Kallen/Lelouch Lamperouge | Lelouch vi Britannia, Nunnally vi Britannia/Kururugi Suzaku
Kudos: 6





	1. Word Drama I

**Tokyo Settlement  
September 14, 2017**

It was as though the great star Wormwood had fallen as proclaimed within the Christian Bible. The land was covered in complete darkness, as the rays of the sun failed to shine down upon the city. The sky was covered in a gray-black cloud that seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see, while buildings and towers lay in ruin along the cracked and fragmented streets. The scents of fire, smoke, oil, iron and others unidentifiable intermingled together as one, as though to make sure even the blind or deaf could not escape the dread that had taken hold of the entire nation. And in place of the deafening booms that had occurred only a day earlier, the sounds of sirens, VTOL engines and cries of people were now all that could be heard.

For Viletta Nu, the whole scene threatened to overwhelm and consume her, but she held it back by sheer force of will and by focusing on her present priority: aiding in the rescue of any survivors that could be found. Alongside several rescue workers, ranging from Japanese to Britannians, Black Knight and former Imperial Army, she had frantically dug through the debris, struggling to find any signs of life and bring them to safety. Her latest rescue had been a Japanese mother and her young child, a little girl no older than five, who had been trapped under the remains of their apartment building for over twenty four hours. Viletta and her fellow rescue workers had managed to get both out, but much to her horror, she found that the child was not breathing.

The next thing Viletta realized, she was attempting cardiopulmonary resuscitation upon the girl. Through her military training alone, she continued to breath into the child's mouth before pushing her hands as hard as she could upon the child's chest, being conscious enough not to cause injury, but keeping up the rapid pace. She had lost all track of time at that point, as she was too frantically focused on trying to see the child draw air, but no matter how many times she pushed and breathed into her, the girl did not draw breath. And as Viletta continued on and on, she found herself silently praying to God, or anyone that was listening, repeating the same phrase over and over: _"Don't let her die! Don't let her die!"_

"That's enough! Viletta, you did enough!" she heard someone yell from behind her, snapping her from her concentration. A moment later, she felt the strong arms of Yoshitaka Minami, one of the Black Knights that she had become "acquainted" with during the past few hours, wrap around her and forcibly drag her away from the girl's body.

"Let me go!" Viletta cried out, struggling in vain against the hold while two others came to take the girl's body. "I can still save her! I can save her, damn you!"

"It's too late! She's dead!" Minami yelled over her, just as the two other men covered the girl's body with a blanket and slowly lifted her limp form upon a nearby stretcher.

It was an all too familiar occurrence, one she had witnessed many times in her career as a soldier for the Crown. Yet seeing it here, those simple actions carried a grim, incontestable finality that at last served to halt Viletta's struggle as it instantly drained the strength from her limbs. At that Minami finally let go of her, and Viletta found herself dropping to her knees, tears streaming down her face involuntarily as the stretcher and the two other workers disappeared from her sight. Replacing her respirator, she tried to stand up again, telling herself that there were still others out there that needed to be saved, others that were depending on her along with everyone else, but no matter how much she sent the commands to her legs, they refused to budge, as if they were weighted down. Instead, Viletta could only stare off into the distance, trying to comprehend the scope of the destruction that had occurred the day before, as her tears came down more and more vehemently.

 _How… how could this have happened…?_ her mind let out, as she saw another body be covered by a blanket. _How could anyone have done this…? How could… I…?_

"Was this… what… what I wanted…?" she murmured under her breath. It didn't make sense to her, no matter how much she tried to wrap her mind around it. She had been a Britannian soldier, as well as a member of the Purist Faction. She had seen and even taken part in the extermination of many Elevens in the past. She hated them for being subhuman, for being inferior to Britannians and for existing when the world had no need for them. But above all else, she hated the Japanese for the fact they were just like Britannians in their desire for power and domination, yet continually feigned innocence and claimed to be "above such barbarisms".

Though even Viletta admitted that Britannia had been excessively cruel to Japan, even when compared to other Areas, she had believed they rightfully deserved such treatment. Ever since Marco Polo made that fated trip to the east and discovered Japan was rich with sakuradite, the Japanese played upon the worldwide demand for it. Throughout history Japan had incited bidding wars between nations for this resource, playing one against the other like two animals fighting over a piece of meat, all the while using the strife and chaos for its own betterment. The nation had also been known to achieve economic dominance over its trading partners, usually to subvert them under Japan's will while continually distracting the prey with the sakuradite at the end of the rope. The Japanese people had no qualms about any of it themselves, as they were xenophobic even by Britannian standards. Thus, when Japan attempted these practices again during the Oriental Incident, it was only by divine justice that Britannia chose not to submit itself to Japan's will, and instead made the little country pay for its vindictiveness and continual self-obsession by conquering it in little over a month.

For all intents and purposes, she should have been celebrating the destruction at hand.

But she didn't. Instead she cried out, feeling only disgust in her heart at the idea just a day ago, she was just like the people that had caused this devastation to occur. Just a day ago, she hated the Elevens and held staunch pride in being Britannian, the masters of the human race. Just a day ago, she had shot her former lover, a good man named Kaname Ohgi, for a multitude of reasons but above them all, just for the fact that he was _one of them_.

Just a day ago, she had been a monster. But today, she had learned the truth, and for that she only felt hatred for herself now.

"We've got something!" Viletta almost didn't hear the voice yell out. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw several workers unearth the remains of a _Sutherland_ , which had ended up having an entire wall collapse upon it. Though the _Sutherland_ itself was in bad shape, the cockpit block had miraculously remained undamaged.

With newfound energy, Viletta rushed over to the downed knightmare, where the workers were now trying to open up the block with a drill. Acting quickly, she moved them out of the way and uncovered the emergency release panel upon the side of the cockpit. Viletta quickly slammed her fist against it, and a moment later, the cockpit hatch opened up and the command chair extended outward with its pilot in tow.

"She's alive!" someone realized as the pilot, a young red-haired girl dressed in a standard blue Britannian pilot suit, began to cough and try to stand up.

"That's it…!" Viletta said as she placed a respirator over her mouth. From there, she and a few others lifted the pilot up and moved her to a nearby stretcher. "What's your name? Your name…!"

"Fir…" the pilot murmured while her eyes fluttered dazedly. "First Lieutenant Charmelle Finlay… 1st Battalion, 122nd Armored… Service Number Seven-Eight-Two…"

"She'll be alright, get her out of here." Viletta commanded the men next to her.

"Not so fast," someone called out, followed by the distinctive sound of an electron battery activating. Everyone turned to see as one of the workers, who was wearing the charred remains of a Black Knights uniform, drew the pistol out and took aim toward the still dazed _Sutherland_ pilot.

Reacting fast and to the amazement of those present, Viletta threw herself between Charmelle and the Black Knight soldier.

"Get out of the way Britannian, or I'll shoot you along with her!" the Black Knight warned with venom, looking more ready to shoot than to listen to reason.

Viletta only glared back. "Killing her will not bring back those that have been lost, and more people will keep dying the longer you point that gun here," she growled. "So either shoot me now, or put the gun down and get back to work."

"Tamaki!" Minami called out to the soldier as he rushed over. "Do as she says and put the gun down!"

"Why!?" Tamaki stated back to Minami. "This is the bitch that shot Ohgi, and who knows how many of ours the one behind her killed!" his finger twitched over the trigger. "I say we kill them right here and now!"

Viletta visibly grimaced at the memory of her shooting Ohgi, as though somebody were rubbing salt into an open wound, but she remained where she stood. "I already told you people, you can kill me at anytime you wish. But please, spare this girl," she nearly begged. "She's as much of a victim as anyone else here!"

"To hell with that!" Tamaki roared and brought the gun up again. "It's because of you Britannians that things are like this!" he then took aim at Viletta's forehead. "So shut up and die already!"

Seeing that her time was up, Viletta decided to just let it come to pass and closed her eyes, waiting for the bullet to pierce her. Before that could happen however, Minami closed the distance and grabbed the gun from Tamaki's hand. "What the hell Minami!?"

"Ohgi wouldn't have wanted you to shoot," Minami stated. "Nor would Zero."

"But she's _one of them_!" Tamaki roared with fury.

So concentrated was he on his friend that Tamaki didn't see Viletta's eyes widen in shock from hearing those three words. The same three words that she had used so much to describe the Japanese now turned on her with the same vehemence. She had to fight hard to keep herself composed after that.

"There's been enough killing Tamaki," Minami replied, looking the other Black Knight straight in the eye. "Don't add onto it."

Growling in anger, Tamaki stormed away to parts unknown, not that anyone cared. When the moment passed, Viletta looked back to Minami and nodded a 'thank you' to him, and despite his own dispositions, he nodded back to her. "Get her to an aid station and hurry back! We've got more that need help!"

Replying only by action, the other workers began moving Charmelle to the nearest aid station. After they left, Minami took one last look at Viletta and moved away himself.

With a brief moment to herself, Viletta reached her arm down and brushed her hand against her pistol, the same one that she had used on Ohgi. Her eyes narrowed as she felt its roughness, before closing once again. _There will be a day when proper justice will be done. But before that, I have to live for now and help save anyone else that survived…_


	2. Word Drama II

**Britannian air cruiser** __**Avalon  
** **Pacific Ocean**   
**September 13, 2017**

It had all been for nothing.

That simple line of words ran through Suzaku's mind like a continuous stream of water or music player set on repeat. No matter what he did, no matter how he moved his body, no matter what position he aligned himself into, he could not get that phrase out of his head. Nor could he hold back the tears that streamed down his face or the shame that he felt in his heart. The words only continued to repeat themselves over and over.

It had been five hours now since Japan's complete destruction, five hours since everything Suzaku had come to cherish went up in a mixture of smoke and fire. The reports were still coming in, but the last Suzaku had heard there were no survivors; every Japanese and Britannian that had been left behind was thought to have perished in the devastation. Only those that had been evacuated to the _Avalon_ during the crisis, such as Princess Cornelia, her knight Lord Guilford, and the majority of the Ashford Academy student body were the only remainder of what had been Area 11, the once proud nation of Japan.

For an eternity, Suzaku's mind continued to reel as everything he had endeavored and worked for over the last seven years had now been undone with the death of his homeland. His father's murder was now meaningless. His choice to join the Britannian military to change the system from within no longer had any reason to it. The valiant acts he had performed under the service of Princess Euphemia, as well as the vision he had shared with her, were all now equivalent to ash just like the islands themselves.

The horror he felt when he had plunged his knife into his father's chest. The shame he had gained when he had chosen to wear a Britannian uniform and bear the sigil of the Empire as a slave. The pain he had accumulated from being looked upon as a lowly servant by his masters and a traitor by his own kind. The endless strain his body had endured from throwing his life on the line over and over again. All meaningless and all wasted.

All that remained was the eternal hatred he felt for the one who caused it all out of his own selfish desires, the one who he had called a mistake and claimed should have never existed: his former friend turned enemy Lelouch vi Britannia. The one and only Zero.

And so, for the last five hours, Suzaku had secluded himself to the relative comfort of his personal quarters aboard the _Avalon_. In that time, Suzaku did not sleep, only ate the barest amounts of nourishment, did not move far away from his bed nor did he allow any light into his domain. He was subconsciously punishing himself and was fully aware of it, throwing himself into a makeshift solitary confinement for his failure to stop his former friend, for his trusting him to take Euphie's hand when he should have struck him down where he stood. No matter what he did, he could not shake off the following question: what would have happened if Suzaku had all but done what was needed at the time?

"Lelouch…" Suzaku snarled with hatred as he twisted and turned in his bed. "It's all because of you, you and your selfishness…" he continued to murmur. "…I should have killed you… It should have been you…!"

"If only it had been you…!" Suzaku continued to bellow. "If only it had been you, none of this would…!"

"So this is what has become of the great Suzaku Kururugi," a voice spoke out from the darkness. "From traitor and murderer to pathetic whiner and weakling. Pride of His Imperial Majesty's Army and Princess Euphemia indeed."

"Who's there!?" Suzaku barked as he arched up from his bed, his rage now directed to the one who dared enter into his private space without permission to mock him. It barely registered with him that he had not heard the door open or sensed another presence in the room until now.

The voice emitted a nasty chuckle. "Someone you know _very_ well, my son," the voice stated just as its bearer exited from the darkness and into Suzaku's view.

In an instant, Suzaku's rage was replaced with horror at what his eyes saw before him: a middle-aged man with a large build, dressed in a formal brown suit with greatcoat over his shoulders and an eternally stern expression grafted onto his face. The very same man that Suzaku had murdered so long ago. "Father…?" he let out in a breath.

"Good to see you have not forgotten about me Suzaku," Genbu Kururugi replied with a sneer. "But then, that would be impossible for you."

The apparition smiled vindictively. "After all, no man can ever forget the first blood spilled on his hands."

"This is impossible!" Suzaku nearly shouted, not believing what his eyes or other senses were telling him. "I killed you! I killed you seven years ago!"

Genbu laughed at that. "You did, and you would be a fool to presume otherwise." the image continued. "What you see before you is a mere shadow, brought forth to this realm by your doubts and self-hatred. The very judge and tormentor you subconsciously desired for your long list of crimes."

"You have no right to judge me!" Suzaku shouted at the image of his father.

"Oh but I do my son," Genbu stated as fact. "For it is from your desire to be judged that I am given purpose."

In the true nature of a specter, Genbu circled the bed Suzaku laid on while continuing to speak. "I must compliment you Suzaku, you have truly outdone yourself since my untimely demise…" Suzaku sneered back in response, but that did not stop Genbu's stride. "Abandoning Lelouch and Nunnally in their time of need… Joining the ranks of our enemies and becoming their willing slave… Piloting one of their machines against your own kind, as well as becoming one of their top aces along the way… Turning your back on every single person that has come to care about you…"

The ghost seemed to take noticeable delight at each cringe Suzaku's face took at an accusation. "And now…" Genbu smiled. "…you have even come to betray Lelouch and Nunnally to your masters as well."

"I never betrayed Lelouch! _It was he who betrayed me!_ " Suzaku roared at the image of his father, his hands folded into fists and sweat pouring from his head. "He was the one who turned on the system! He was the one who killed Euphie and destroyed everything I cared about!"

"Did he now?" Genbu looked at his son with peculiarity.

 _ **"YES!"**_ Suzaku let out. "I was there, watching from the _Lancelot_ 's monitors as Lelouch shot Euphie! I was at her side when she passed on from that wound, and a part of me died with her!"

He smashed a fist into his bed cover at the memory of it all. "Lelouch brainwashed her and used her as his pawn, just so he could incite rebellion! And now our people and everything I've fought for, everything I've humiliated myself for, _are ashes because of him!_ "

Genbu only watched with apathetic eyes as his son began to breathe heavily from his tirade. "Are you finished, or did you want to add more to your pathetic drivel?"

Suzaku looked back incredulously. "How can you not care about any of that!? You were their Prime Minister, their elected leader!"

"You forget, my son…" Genbu smiled fiendishly. "I was the one that originally wanted every Japanese man, woman, and child to fight to the end seven years ago, so that the Japanese race may die as warriors rather than live as slaves. If anything, I should be thanking Lelouch for allowing them to do just that!"

"You heartless bastard!" Suzaku hollered, instinctively leaping up to his feet.

"Heartless? Perhaps so…" Genbu said. "But even if I am, at least I can say I was heartless from the beginning. Unlike you, who possessed a heart at one time but willingly threw it away in your mediocre quest for self-destruction…"

"Have you not heard anything I said!? I lost that part of me when Lelouch used and killed Euphie…!" Suzaku started to rant again.

"Indeed, but it was by your own choice that you abandoned your heart!" Genbu shot back against his son with a singular laugh. "And because of your actions, Lelouch has now been stripped of everything _he_ fought and cared for, while Nunnally is on her way to becoming her father's plaything."

Genbu began to circle Suzaku again. "All of these outcomes, Suzaku, and you never questioned why it has come to this…"

"That's because I already know!" Suzaku stated.

"Do you?" Genbu smiled devilishly again. "Have you asked yourself _why_ Lelouch had used Geass on Euphemia when logically the Special Administration Zone fit perfectly into his motives? Have you ever wondered how Lelouch could callously butcher the one sibling he truly cared about besides Nunnally and not feel anything toward it?"

"He did it for his lust for power!" Suzaku shot out. "That's been Lelouch's motivation from the beginning!"

Genbu laughed at his son's exclamation. "You know that to be untrue Suzaku, as it goes against everything you know about him, the exiled prince that stumbled into our household seven years ago," he countered. "The boy who, in spite of being abandoned by his country and the world, cared selflessly for his beloved sister and his best friend's well-being, and later on came to care for many others."

The father drew closer to his son, retaining his specter like presence. "Selflessness, empathy, compassion, love, dedication. Those five words make up Lelouch vi Britannia's core being, from the first day you met him all the way to the present. Those are what drove him to do things such as diffuse a car accident he was entirely uninvolved in, to accept a role in the Ashford Academy Student Council to aid his childhood friend in her quest to establish a pleasant environment, to care for his crippled sibling in place of their mother, to look after his best friend who is eternally haunted by the demons of the past. And at the forefront of all of those, to create a place for all peoples to live happily, a motivation that you had adapted for yourself as well but only much later on."

Genbu smirked once more as his son fidgeted uncomfortably from his words. "You knew all of these things, but not once did you ever try to make sense of his actions, not once did you place a semblance of trust in him. Instead, you gave in to your rage and selfish hatred and chose to see Lelouch as your enemy just as he was Britannia's; in other words, you ran away again, just as you did seven years ago after killing me and just as you are doing now."

"The Lelouch I knew was nothing more than a mask!" Suzaku countered with as much force as he could create. "A well-played persona of compassion! An efficient monster hiding amidst a facade of humanity! A series of well-rehearsed lines! That's all Lelouch ever...!" Suzaku tried to speak further but found the words die in his mouth before he could utter them.

"Oh? A mask you say?" Genbu glared at his son. "Tell me, does a mask display needless acts of kindness to the most mundane of people? Does a mask care for a blind and crippled girl for the duration of its life, when the most efficient choice was to simply abandon her? And would a mask save the life of a friend-turned-enemy, by inspiring him to live even by force even when the person in question lost every ounce of resolve to continue on?" That last one made Suzaku look on in shocked realization, much to Genbu's amusement. "A mask indeed, _baka-na_ Suzaku. A mask of your own delusion!"

The specter chuckled at his last statement. "At the very least, Euphemia seemed to understand him. Oh yes, she paid for her understanding with her life, but for all of her weaknesses at least she was able to see through the so-called mask to the true face underneath, once again unlike you."

The sinister nature of Genbu's grin only deepened at his next few words. "If she did not, then why did she believe in him even to the end?"

At that, Suzaku's mind recalled the events of the SAZ and the dying image of Euphemia and how even to the end she showed no hatred and only kindness, even to the one that had killed her. Immediately his eyes snapped closed and tears began to draw out as he shivered from the chill he felt from it.

Genbu only laughed at his son's pain. "Yes Suzaku, it was you who betrayed Lelouch at the beginning. Not only that, but you plan to do so again, by using him as a bargaining chip for ascension to the Knights of the Round."

Suzaku's eyes snapped open again and he stared up in horror at his father. "How…did you…?"

"I know everything there is to know about you my son, including your newfound plans to ascend to Knight of One," Genbu looked down dominantly at his child, who only looked back with vehemence. "Truly the epitome of wretchedness, exploiting the only one besides your beloved Princess who understood you and tried to help you, all for false honor and a meaningless purpose no less. Just how far will you fall my son, before you reach the mouths of Satan himself?"

"I don't want to hear it from you!" Suzaku hollered as he drew up and threw his fist out. But before the blow could connect, the image of Genbu disappeared before him and his fist hit nothing but air.

"I'm sorry; did I hit a sore spot Suzaku?" Genbu spoke condescendingly from behind.

"I'll kill you!" Suzaku growled with hatred as he turned around.

"You already have, remember?" Genbu gestured down to his chest, where Suzaku's knife was embedded and blood was stained into his suit. "You cannot kill what is already dead, not any more than you can be rid of your past sins."

"What are you saying?" Suzaku spat.

At that, Genbu drew himself to Suzaku's face, eyes matching each other. From his gaze, Suzaku felt as though he were staring into an abyss, as he saw nothing behind his father's eyes but an unending void. Despite his best attempts not to flinch, he eventually was forced to look away.

"This is but my first visit to you Suzaku…" Genbu spoke out, his voice suddenly becoming even more hollowed. "…as long as you will it, I will return to bring to light every sin that you have committed, every falsehood that you justify to others and yourself, and every hypocritical action you take that only worsens the world. For I am your shadow, and no matter how much you try, I will always be there with you, to bring about the judgment and torment your soul has always wanted."

At that, Genbu began to step backwards, his image fading into the darkness. " _Ja ne aisoku_." he spoke chidingly, before vanishing entirely.

Once more, Suzaku was left in the darkness, but even though he was physically alone, his past demons and several new additions continued to haunt him. All much to his despair.


	3. Word Drama III

**Government Bureau  
Tokyo Settlement, Area 11 (Japan), Britannian Empire  
September 13, 2017  
**

The sounds of gunfire and explosions seemed to grow nearer with each passing second. Even the metal and concrete walls of the government bureau could not keep their sounds out from its insiders, nor the shockwaves from causing those same walls to tremble. Its occupants didn't fare much better either, as Alfred Gaius Darlton observed while he moved through the corridors alongside his brothers Bart Lucius Darlton, Claudio Servius Darlton, David Tiberius Darlton and Edgar Nerva Darlton. All five were still dressed in their pilot suits and all holding their visors in one of their hands, having just come out of the battle outside and just as ready to return to it at a moment's notice. In fact, they would still be out there fighting had it not been for their new orders to return to the Bureau, both to mount the final defense and for reasons that their commander, Gilbert G.P. Guilford, had not let on.

Throughout the hallways he and his brothers walked into and from, Alfred saw great disarray: wounded lining the walls with medics attempting to patch them up, random officials running from end to end to perform whatever duty they were assigned to, papers strung out all across the floor, offices with furniture overturned and pictures fallen down, and above all else a great sense of dread that hung in the air like a puff of smoke. All of these things merged together in Alfred's mind, and his brothers too he imagined, to create a revelation that made his gut clench and his fists tremble: the Britannians were losing this battle, and losing it bad.

Just minutes ago Alfred had been in his _Gloucester_ , fighting alongside his brothers against the oncoming Black Knight units, of which there seemed to be no end in number. While their average pilots proved no match for him or the other Glaston Knights, they still kept pushing onward against the Britannian lines, and no matter how many _Burais_ were killed off, neither their numbers nor their energy dwindled. The opposite was only too true with his side however, as Britannian forces all throughout the island were losing ground and manpower fast, all divided into their assigned operational zones in Area 11 and all too easily isolated, with the confusion caused by the recent SAZ massacre, which even now no one could explain, and Princess Euphemia's subsequent death only making the situation that much worse. Alfred cursed at all that, and even more so to Zero's brilliance in being able to take advantage of the whole affair; somewhat ironic, considering just days ago he had professed to his brothers that he come to admire the revolutionary's tactics and capacity for long term strategy while fighting the Area 11 occupational forces, all a far cry from their previous adversaries in the Middle East. Now Alfred wanted to skin that masked bastard alive for those exact same things.

And yet, it was only now that Alfred saw exactly how bad things truly were, more so over the fact he and the other Glaston Knights, along with several more surviving Imperial units, had been recalled to the Government Bureau to mount for the final defense. And even more disturbing, the command had been given to them by Guilford, who had taken over the battle; where Princess Cornelia was he had not let known over the radio, neither did he reply to his brother Claudio's inquiry on the whereabouts of their father, General Andreas Darlton. In turn, Guilford also added on that once the five Glastons had returned and dismounted, they were all to meet him in the Viceroy's office before cutting communications and leaving more questions than answers with the brothers.

Needless to say, the sinking feeling in Alfred's stomach only deepened from that order, and no matter how much he tried to prepare himself for the worst, he knew all too well his efforts would be in vain. And knowing his brothers as he did, they were all trying to do the same, only for each and every one of them to come to that same conclusion.

Slowly, the five came to the door leading to the Viceroy's office, and with certain hesitation, Claudio reached out and opened it, allowing the other four to step inside before he did so as well. Immediately the five brothers were greeted with the image of Guilford, also dressed in his pilot suit, standing before the window behind the prominent oak desk, arms crossed behind him, while papers and various objects were littered across the desk itself and the floor. Alfred visibly gulped at the scene, both in regard to Guilford's visage and the knowledge that the resulting debris were caused by an enraged Cornelia, likely some time after the SAZ.

But then, Claudio noticed something else that disturbed him far more. "Guilford, you're here alone..." he started.

Guilford did not move from those words, but the same sinking dread soon took over his brothers, who were already showing expressions of fear. Seeing this, Alfred forced himself to swallow his own fear and asked the question first: "Where's the General?" he stammered, barely composing himself and the desperation behind his eyes. "Where's our father?"

At that, Guilford finally moved, his head visibly dipping lower as he closed his eyes, already regretting what he was about to tell them. Slowly he turned around, his eyes narrowed behind his angular glasses, composing his breath before he delivered the worst news that they would ever hear. "We found the remains of General Darlton's _Gloucester_ on the roof of this building," he started, praying that his breath wouldn't hitch. "His body could not be recovered."

Suddenly the world became that much colder to the five, who could only no stand there in collective shock. Out of their number however, Alfred was the only one who could not remain as he was, instead feeling the strength in his legs give out and forcing him to fall to his knees.

 _"No..."_ he murmured, eyes clenched shut as tears flowed out like miniature waterfalls. Then letting out a cry of rage and anguish, he reached back and slammed his left fist, the one not holding his visor, into the tiled floor, feeling dull pain as his knuckles smashed their way into the marble surface. His brethren could only look away as they fought themselves to mimic what their youngest had done, all the while their own tears fell.

After a few moments, Claudio would be the first to recover, albeit not as much as he would have wanted. Just as Alfred was the youngest of their lot, he was the oldest, and it was therefore his responsibility to ensure that they maintain their duty, even in the face of all that has happened. As such, he turned back toward Guilford, eyes still glazed from tears, and looked the knight dead on as he asked. "What are our orders, Lord Guilford?"

Guilford nodded, as he also fought his own emotions to retain his stoic image, which he was otherwise a staple of his character. "It won't be long before the Black Knights overrun all of our defenses and make their way here," he began, unconsciously feeling his fist tremble as he went on. "All of our Area based forces have been cut off from Tokyo Settlement, and Prince Schneizel's fleet is too far away to make any difference."

He took a moment to fight back the memories of the latest radio call from his mind's eyes. "As such, we have been ordered to abandon Area 11."

Whatever sorrow remained over their father's death was soon pushed aside as the brothers looked up again in shock. "Abandon...?" Bart murmured, realizing with the rest of his lot what that order meant.

"The _Avalon_ will soon make its way here," Guilford stated in a measured tone. "I have been instructed to personally bring Princess Cornelia and all VIPs to her..."

"But what about the others...?" David stammered, once again close to losing his composure. "What about the civilians...?"

Guilford once again closing his eyes was all the answer they needed. As a result, certain anger began to well up among the five. "That's _not_ an option!" Alfred shouted.

Edgar however, managed to keep his own anger in check, at least long enough to follow on that. "Were those orders confirmed?"

"Yes. I had the radio team verify the message. _Twice_." Guilford explained, his voice beginning to rise. "As I said, Prince Schneizel's fleet is still too far away, and with the Chinese mounting forces in the Sea of Japan, our Asian based forces are cut off. The _Avalon_ is the only ship that will be able to make it here before the fall, but obviously she is not large enough to accommodate the entire populace."

"We can't just leave them all behind...!" David stated vehemently.

"We have no choice!" Guilford shouted back, finally allowing the dam to burst. "In less than an hour, Area 11 will cease to exist one way or the other! All we can do is ensure that as many people get out as possible before the worst occurs!"

That silenced the five for the moment, but the disgusts was still present within their eyes, and in his own mind's eye, Guilford could see the image of Darlton holding a similar vehemence in his gaze, were he there to look back at him. But even so, the knight of Cornelia remained stalwart as he continued on. "Listen, I will ensure you five are also given passage onto the _Avalon_. As both knights and as the sons of General Andreas Darlton, you are too invaluable to Britannia's service to die here, and I will be _damned_ before I let any random Duke or Earl say otherwise."

"And I suppose the ones outside, who are still _fighting_ so we can stand here and talk about this, are _less_ valuable to Britannia's service to be given passage?" Bart stated in turn.

Guilford felt his teeth clench in response, albeit more toward his given orders than toward Bart's statement. "As I said before, we cannot save everyone. In the next few minutes, I will order a final push against the Black Knight forces. That will buy us enough time to evacuate."

"In that case..." Claudio stated, turning toward his brothers to ensure they were all in agreement. When they returned their steeled gazes toward him, confirming his unspoken question, he looked back at Guilford. "...let us be the ones to lead that push."

Now it was Guilford's turn to look disturbed and confounded. "...what did you just say?"

"You heard what I said." Claudio replied with more resolution than one would believe possible. " _We_ will lead the final charge."

Guilford was only taken back further, knowing what awaited the brothers would they follow through with that statement. "If you go out there now..." he said with a tremble in his voice. "...you will only be cosigning yourselves to your deaths."

"So be it then," David followed up in turn. "At the very least our deaths will not come cheaply, and it will only guarantee the defense to hold out longer."

"Besides, it's what our father would have done." Edgar replied as well.

"Your father would have wanted you to live!" Guilford stammered out. "Do you think you will be doing General Darlton justice by dying _here_!"

"This isn't about our father, it's about _them_ Guilford!" Claudio responded sharply. "You're about to order Britannia's finest to go out there and sacrifice themselves so that those higher up on the food chain can flock back to the Homeland. You of all people should know how they will feel when that order is given, especially if their own commanders weren't willing to go out there with them!"

Guilford sneered at that thought, knowing exactly what Claudio meant. He did not deny that claim, as he knew all too well the desperation one would hold in the face of certain death; if not for his service to Cornelia, as well as his orders to ensure her safety and those of the other VIPs, he would have been back out there himself to ensure that those below him would not feel left behind. And just as David said, Darlton would have done the same thing, and in that regard Guilford felt disgusted toward himself that _he_ had to be the one to run away while his sons carried out their late father's will.

"We are the Glaston Knights!" Alfred called out with the force of a battle cry. "The sons of Britannia, charged with the defense of our nation, and the destruction of our enemies! We are the soldiers that march forward when others retreat! We are the warriors that destroy in order to preserve! We are the reapers that sew death so that our brethren may live! _We live for the Empire, we die for the Empire!_ "

And from that, the _credo_ of the Glaston Knights rang out throughout the room like a war trumpet blast, causing the other four brothers to stand just as firm alongside the one who spoke it out, once more reflecting on their own will and dedication to their cause. After Alfred finished, Claudio followed upon his brother's words. "Our father made us recite those words until they were permanently forged into our hearts. All this time we have stood by their meaning, yet it is only such a time as this that we can live up to those words to our greatest extent."

He stepped forward, until he was directly face to face with Guilford. "I do not misunderstand you Guilford. I know that with our father's death, you believe you are carrying his will by ensuring our safety, just as I know that if our father were still alive, he would rather see us brought back to the Homeland than sent back out there. But for that to happen, we would be forced to betray our oaths to Britannia and her people, both our fellow soldiers and the civilians we have been charged to defend."

Claudio stared directly into Guilford's eyes, until it seemed like his gaze would melt through the knight's pupils. "And you know _that_ will never happen."

Again Guilford felt his fist clench, as he grit his teeth and looked down, refusing to let himself cry in front of such a face. Unlike those before him, he knew _exactly_ what awaited the five as well as every other living thing on the islands. He, like every other higher official in Cornelia's staff, had known of the _final solution_ that would ensure Area 11 and her sakuradite reserve would never fall into the hands of Britannia's enemies, and for all of this time, Guilford had sworn to himself that he would not see that nightmare unleashed. But now, the order had been given, and Guilford knew that even if the brothers would survive the battle, they would only die in the aftermath. Operation Nero would ensure nothing less.

Yet he knew he could not convince them otherwise; even if he did let them in on one of the most well kept secrets in Area 11, a secret that even now he was under strict orders not to speak of except to those who also knew, they would still be resigned to the battle. As such, Guilford felt as if his insides were being torn apart, the knowledge that he could not protect Darlton's children from suffering the same fate as their father being too much for him to bear, alongside the knowledge that they were about to engage a fight that he, by all rights, should have been in as well.

But even so, he did not forget that his duty was still to Cornelia, and that her leaving the island alive took priority above everything else, even the safety of Darlton's sons. As such, he forced his mind to anchor on that one thought, allowing him to turn back to Claudio and, without losing his composure again, nod in acknowledgement. "If that is your wish," Guilford stated, before giving off the Imperial salute, placing his right fist over his heart. "May you fight well, Glaston Knights!"

Claudio nodded back and saluted as well, alongside the other four. "We always do," he said, before they exited. "Farewell, Lord Guilford."

* * *

Mere minutes after their last meeting with Guilford, Alfred found himself back on the cockpit chair of his _Gloucester_ , which shifted forward into the cockpit itself while the hatch sealed itself behind him. From there, he began the startup procedure of his machine, and found much to his relief that the previous battle damage had been repaired and that all systems were fully operational. Looking over his ammunition supply, he found that his assault rifle's bullet and grenade cartridges had both been swapped with fully loaded ones, and that his back mounted missile launchers were all carrying their full loads. For all intents and purposes, he was ready for battle, and shifting his head toward the other four blue shouldered _Gloucesters_ and deploying the factsphere to scan them, it appeared his brothers' units were just as ready.

One after the other, the five machines gently sped across the hangar to weapons rack, where five familiar golden lances awaited them. Starting with Alfred himself and ending with Bart, each Glaston Knight took hold of a lance, before speeding toward the hangar entryway alongside a nearby group of _Sutherlands_. They continued on until they reached the end of the entryway, where a single closed door divided the insides of the hangar to the outside plaza of the Area 11 Government Bureau. Again one after the other, each knightmare moved into position, perfectly organizing themselves into an attack formation with the five _Gloucesters_ in front and the _Sutherlands_ behind them, all the while the door remained shut and the nearby hangar light remained in the red; once it shifted to green, the door would open and the battle would begin anew for all of them. But for now, they would have to wait, likely until either the _Avalon_ arrived or the Black Knights came close enough for them to attack.

At that point, Alfred reached up with a shaking hand a placed the visor back over his head, taking a moment to let his eyes adjust to the ruby colored 'T'. Despite his resolution to certain death, he still could not keep himself from feeling nervous, and though he did his best to keep it from leaking onto his expression, something must have slipped out, because the next thing he saw was Claudio's own visored image appearing at the corner of his monitor. "Nervous Alfred?" he called out.

Alfred chuckled at that. "Guess some things can't be helped," he replied in good humor. "I was really hoping that I would be able to face the prospect of my death calmly, but it looks like that's not going to happen either."

Suddenly, Bart's image appeared on his screen. "Don't feel bad about it, we're all feeling like that now. But look on the bright side; at least you're not shitting your suit like Edgar is."

A very put off Edgar appeared almost instantly. "For your information asshole, I _haven't_ had a bowel movement since this damned rebellion began. And if I did have one, it would have happened a _long_ time ago, when Cornelia started barking orders."

David followed up on that one as well. "Heh, that would have been enough to give _anyone_ a bowel movement. I've never seen Her Highness so pissed off."

"And we all know why _that_ was." Claudio replied, giving an indirect order to drop the subject. At that, the other four brothers, knowing full well what Claudio was hinting at, chose to follow their leader's command and leave it at that.

After a few moments of silence, Alfred decided to speak again, feeling a little more dejected. "I wish father were here."

The other four nodded. "We all do Alfred," David said in turn. "If it's any consolation, we'll be joining him soon enough."

"Yeah, at least there's that," Bart replied. "In the meantime, he'll just have to watch over us as we kill a few more Elevens. He certainly wouldn't have it any other way."

"Damn straight." Alfred nodded, feeling some of his spirit begin to return. Then another thought occurred to him. "Hey, you guys remember what he had us say before our first deployment?"

Upon that memory, the other four returned the smirk that came across Alfred's face, remembering the excerpt from one of the greatest plays that a certain Bard had put out, one that was based around, ironically enough, victory in the face of certain defeat. At that, Claudio was the first to recite the passage, just as he had been so long ago. _"Once more unto the breach, dear friends!"_ he started, the speakers in Alfred's cockpit doing no justice to the intensity of his tone. _"Once more, or close the wall up with our Britannian dead! In peace there's nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility!"_

Unbeknownst to the brothers, the _Sutherlands_ around them were picking up on their transmission due to the proximity, and all at once, their fellow pilots began to listen with interest as the brothers recited the legendary words of William Shakespeare's _Henry V_ , their own spirits being rejuvenated with each word. Bart followed where Claudio left off. _"But when the blast of war blows in our ears, then imitate the action of the tiger! Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, disguise fair nature with hard-favored rage! Then lend the eye a terrible aspect! Let pry through the portage of the head like the brass cannon!"_

David was next down the line. _"Let the brow overwhelm it as fearfully as doth a galled rock overhang and jutty his confounded base, swilled with the wild and wasteful ocean! Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide, hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit to his full height!"_

Edgar followed on from there. _"On, on, you noblest Britannians, whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof! Fathers that, like so many Alexanders, have in these parts from morn till even fought and sheathed their swords for lack of argument!"_

At long last, it was Alfred's turn, and he performed his own segment with the same fervor as his brothers. _"Dishonor not your mothers, now attest that those whom you called fathers did beget you! Be copy now to men of grosser blood, and teach them how to war! And you, good yeoman, whose limbs were made in Britannia, show us here the mettle of your pasture! Let us swear that you are worth your breeding, which I doubt not!"_

As the last segment came around, it returned to Claudio. _"For there is none of you so mean and base, that hath not noble luster in your eyes! I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, straining upon the start! The game's afoot! Follow your spirit, and upon this charge, cry out to God, Earth and Heaven...!"_

And then all at once, the voices of not only the five Glaston Knights, but those of each and every one of their fellow knights sounded off in a resolute cry of seemingly eternal power and defiance that threatened to shake the very foundations of the government bureau. **_"_** _ **ALL HAIL BRITANNIA!"**_

Immediately after those final words rang out, the light flashed green and the hangar door lowered itself, revealing the outside to the gathered knightmares. And with a war cry, Claudio twirled his lance and put his _Gloucester_ in a charge, followed by the collective cries of his brethren and the _Sutherland_ pilots, who also charged into the awaiting battlefield...

* * *

**Nippon Memorial Park  
Naha, Okinawa, Ryukyu Republic  
January 19, 2019  
**

Minute thunder rumbled across the grey and overcast skies as a soft gust of wind blew through the forest, causing tree leaves to rustle and grass to flutter from the expanse. As far as storms went, this one was not the worst Okinawa had encountered; in fact, it was a relatively tranquil storm compared to the usual tropical storms and typhoons that usually graced themselves over the islands. However, it was still enough to obscure the usually bright tropical setting, blocking out the sun with a blanket of clouds and causing the seas to shift and stir. The proverbial calm before the _real_ storm began, as it were.

Despite the storm's presence however, the recently created Nippon Memorial Park remained seemingly undisturbed by its presence. The trees, genetically engineered to grow to their full size in little over a year as well as to stand up to the island's higher climates, remained standing strong even as the wind began to pick up around them. The grasslands and ponds, also created in the recent years, remained just as still, while the local wildlife continued to move about the area; they knew that there was still time before the storm's true power was revealed, and as such were now using whatever opportunity they could before seeking shelter. And there, standing prominently in the middle of the park, a single stone pillar appeared unmovable and unbreakable even against whatever force the storm was threatening to bring onto the land. After all, it was created by those who _survived_ the worst cataclysm in modern history as a dedication to those who did not, and compared to the onslaught brought upon by the Devastation, a little thunder and rain was hardly a threat to it or those who built it.

For most of the day the park and the stone pillar remained without visitation. This in itself was a curious event, as the park was a frequently traversed area due to its serving as the collective gravestone for the one hundred million plus that died just under two years ago. Those who survived the Devastation and those who had observed it from the island were both known to come here, to remember as well as to forget, but for the today it seemed as though the storm would be the only visitor to this land. At least, until the mid-afternoon, when _he_ came.

From the grey sky above, a single bird, one easily identified as a peregrine falcon, swooped down and made a perfect landing onto the top of the pillar, its talons gripping the stone as they would prey. Once it steadied itself, the magnificent avian raised itself up and folded its wings back, before looking toward a certain direction of the forest and letting out a loud, ear piercing cry that threatened to shatter the tranquility of the setting. Just as that cry was made, a single silhouette, one with the stature of a man, appeared from the direction that the falcon's cry echoed toward.

Walking in a steady stride, the figure moved through the forest with the near presence of a ghost. The black and silver outlined uniform that he wore moved with his every step, from the perfectly polished black boots which dug into the dirt and grass to the _kama_ that stretched from the waist down to the feet, gently whipping against both the wind and the stride. Two cast silver medals were held over the uniform's left breast, respectively designating him as a survivor of the Devastation and a veteran of the Black Rebellion, while the black, duel silver stripe bearing epaulettes on his shoulders displayed his rank as a Captain. Furthermore, the black beret that he wore over his longer-than-average blonde hair, itself bearing a familiar silver "winged sword" sigil at its base, also indicated him as a member of a specialized unit, one whose name once lived in infamy.

All of these details taken it, it was obvious that this man was a soldier, yet in spite of how striking he looked in his black and silver garb, it seemed as though the uniform was foreign to him. The sigil on his beret especially seemed like the last thing anyone would have believed him to wear, especially when not too long ago he bore a certain golden cross as his own standard. Yet here he was, looking just as ready to march to war as he would have in the maroon uniform he once wore.

As he drew closer to the shrine, the falcon, which he had named Andreas after his late father, let out another cry, and then took off again. A short flight later, it settled upon the branch of a nearby tree, where it would watch its master, the man who had rescued it from the destruction not too long ago, confront his own ghosts.

After a few more steps, Alfred G. Darlton came to a full stop in front of the shrine, where his eyes looked across the memorial plaque at the pillar's base. He was still not fully able to read Japanese characters, but he knew the plaque spoke of the pillar's dedication to those who had died on September 13, 2017. And as he continued to gaze at the ornate hiragana characters, he could feel the memories of that exact day raise up in his mind.

He remembered the battle as it were only yesterday, from the beginning to the violent and destructive end. He remembered the sights and sounds of the bullets and explosions, the death cries ringing out over his radio, and the overwhelming feeling of adrenaline moving throughout his body as he fought the losing battle. But chief among those memories, he remembered the last moments of each and every one of his brothers, as well as the feelings of helplessness that came after one fell.

He could see Bart's _Gloucester_ get cornered by three _Burais_ before being cut down by the triple blaze of their machine guns, the first of his brothers to fall in the battle. He could remember David's unit getting impaled by the chainsword of one of the _Gekkas_ , the revolving blade moving past the Yggdrasil drive and into the cockpit block, before its wielder ripped it out and let the stricken _Gloucester_ fall. He could see another _Gekka_ leap out and tackle Edgar's unit into a nearby wall, where it then executed diagonal cut across the magenta colored knightmare's torso, before letting loose its arm mounted autocannon into the wound and then jumping back before it exploded. And then, at last, he could see Claudio, who had been fighting the black armored, "red haired" _Gekka_ that belonged to Kyoshiro Tohdoh, fall as well as the enemy commander systematically dissembled his own _Gloucester_ , also letting it explode.

Alfred felt both his gut and his fists tighten at the memories, but for whatever hatred he would have gained over watching his four brothers die one after the other, that hatred had been cancelled out by the earthquake and the explosions that sounded as the sakuradite deposits were detonated. That memory was soon followed by the memory of his own awakening, along with the feeling of multiple hands lifting him out of the remains of his own _Gloucester_ while his eyes were greeting by a darkened sky and surrounding ruin. And following that memory was yet another memory of him, now fully alert, wading through the left behind destruction in a desperate search for other survivors, all the while despair threatened to overwhelm and destroy him when the Devastation had failed to.

For almost two years he had lived with those memories, and for that same amount of time he struggled with the realization that everything he had fought for and believed in had been a lie. His own nation had betrayed him, turning upon every principle that it had espoused into him just to keep the resources of the Japanese isles out of the hands of its enemies. The innocents that Alfred had been tasked to serving and protecting had been unanimously purged, all the while the few who held titles and positions were allowed to flee back to the Homeland and escape the destruction. And above all else, the sacrifice of his father and his brothers was rendered in vain, as the Britannia that they had all served to their greatest extent was revealed to be an illusion, a mere cover for a less than honorable regime.

It was for all of those things that Alfred, alongside many other fellow surviving Britannians, had chosen to join the Order of the Black Knights after the organization had been brought back into existence. That itself had been a difficult struggle, as there were still those who still blamed survivors like him for the Devastation, but again here he was now, dressed in the new black and silver attire of his onetime enemies and preparing to go to war against his equally onetime home country.

But before he could proceed however, he needed to come here, at least one more time. He needed to speak to his family once again, even if it was beyond the grave. Already Alfred could see them, the hulking image of his father and the somewhat smaller and leaner images of his brothers, looking back at him, watching him. But even so, he could not picture their expressions and reactions at the sight of his standing before them in an "enemy" uniform. Yet despite that, Alfred chose to speak anyway.

"We live for the Empire. We die for the Empire." Alfred murmured, as he kept his eyes on the shrine. "I can still remember how I cried out those words to Guilford, back before the battle. I remember how I, how _we all_ , felt toward serving Britannia to the end."

Alfred let out a small, sad smile at that. "I guess I could say you were the lucky ones. Each and every one of you followed that creed to the end, before the Devastation erupted and everything changed. You all got to die believing that you were serving a greater purpose than yourselves, while I had to live on to realize it was all a lie."

His smile quickly faded. "That's the reason why I'm here now, before you in this uniform," he continued hesitantly. "I lived past that battle to learn that Britannia really is everything Zero claimed it to be: an evil empire that will destroy humanity instead of saving it. Yes, there is some good in it; you all, as well as Guilford, Cornelia and Euphemia were evidence of that alone, but that wasn't enough to prevent the Devastation."

At that, his eyes closed as he felt tears threaten to leave them. "There is no clearer evil than a nation that would so easily sacrifice its own, whether be it soldier or civilian, and no matter how many good people are in it, it will only remain evil. And in your own words father, when a man is confronted by evil, he is given a choice: either allow it to continue, or end it where it stands."

He opened his eyes again, which were now glistened with moisture. "Yes... you _really_ are the lucky ones." he continued, reaching up and grasping the left side of his uniform. "Because you're not alive to feel the pain I'm feeling now as I'm about to turn on everything I was brought up to believe. Sure, I could say that Britannia betrayed me, no, betrayed _us_ first, but that doesn't make my decision any easier, not when I spent my entire life in its service."

Hesitantly, he took a step closer to the pillar. "No matter how you look at it, I'm about to commit the ultimate treason, against my Emperor and my country, against my oath as a Glaston Knight and against your memories. The last son of Andreas Darlton will live on as a traitor to everything his father and family stood for, as well as forever regretting his service to Britannia and his aid toward its subjugations."

Suddenly, his eyes narrowed. "But in the end, it's not about me, nor is it about you," he stated. "It's about those we failed to serve and protect, and those who still need service and protection from evil. It was for them that we acted as Glaston Knights, it is for them that I am willing to live a traitor's life in the company of my former enemies, and it is for them that I am willing to endure whatever disgust or ill will you have toward me from beyond as I go against our principles."

Finally, the tears began to flow out. "If nothing else, I want you to know that," he said, stiffening himself to military attention. "And that no matter what happens, I will always be a Darlton. Forever proud and forever with honor."

With that declaration, he raised his right hand up and saluted, just as rain began to fall from above. And then, after several moments of remaining as such, Darlton finally tilted his head down and allowed himself to cry.


	4. Word Drama IV

**Imperial Palace**   
**Pendragon, Grand Duchy of Pennsylvania, Area 1 (North America), Britannian Empire**   
**October 20th, 2017**

It had been seven years since Milly Ashford had set foot in Britannia. Seven years since her family had been stripped of their nobility and their holdings and then exiled to the far east over their association to the late Empress Marianne. And now there she was, recently returned to her homeland, after so many years wondering if she would ever see it again. Many a night had she dreamed of simply setting foot on Britannian soil once more, breathing the air around her family's land, the Grand Duchy of New York, and along with all of it reuniting all the friends that she had left behind. And now, seven years later, it seemed as though that wish had finally come true.

Unfortunately however, it was _far_ from the momentous occasion she had originally pictured. _Very far._

She now stood in the middle of the Imperial throne room, alongside the rest of Ashford Academy's surviving student body, all of whom were dressed in their school uniforms as she had personally requested of them. The atmosphere was heavy, as the students around her fought to contain their fear; the Emperor himself had summoned them, or so the Letters Patent had claimed, and after the events of last September, many couldn't help but wonder if they had been brought to their own executions. It was nothing short of a miracle for many of them to stand there at all, much more keep their emotions in check, all the while they waited for His Imperial Majesty to appear and determine their fates.

The same could not be said for Milly however. Instead of quaking in her uniform like some others, she stood ramrod straight up, her hands at her sides and folded into fists. Instead of virtual tears running down her cheeks, her eyes were cold and hardened, appearing expressionless on the surface yet speaking of certain rage underneath them. And instead of the sounds of muffling or sobs escaping from her mouth, all that could be heard from her was breathing, near silent and completely controlled, not unlike that of a sleeping dragon. She was, for all intents and purposes, _quite_ ready for the coming event, as well as entirely resigned to whatever Fate held for her.

Beside her, Rivalz and Shirley stood by her as always. They looked far less resolute than she had, with Rivalz looking far more nervous than he usually did and Shirley looking as though she were going to break down and cry then and there; after all, she was among those who had lost family, specifically her mother, in the events beforehand. But Milly knew better; no matter what would happen in the next few minutes, those two would always be there to stand with her and support her, just as they had upon the Student Council. Their devotion was beyond question, even if their current emotional standing was not.

That said however, it did deeply sadden her that they were the only members of the Student Council present. Lelouch had disappeared hours before the Black Rebellion had taken place, as did Nunnally not long into it; it was generally believed that they had perished during in the chaos of the rebellion, though Milly herself suspected otherwise. Kallen, after revealing herself as a Black Knight, had rejoined the fight not long afterward; like Lelouch and Nunnally, she too was believed to have been killed, whether in battle or by the sakuradite detonations. Nina, after her failure to detonate her impromptu atomic bomb, had been incarcerated somewhere aboard the _Avalon_ and not seen since; Milly already had some ideas on what had happened to her, but she kept them to herself for the time being.

And as for Suzaku, the less said, the better. Milly felt her fury bubble under the surface just thinking about _him_.

"Presenting His Imperial Majesty!" announced one of the Imperial Guardsman, breaking Milly out of her thoughts.

Upon that call, the entire hall fell into a dreading silence as Emperor Charles entered. This was the first time that anyone in the Ashford student body, save for Milly of course, had seen the 98th Emperor of the Britannian Empire in person; thus they were all immediately quelled by the presence of the most powerful man in the Empire, all the while keeping mind that their fates could and would be determined by this one man. It didn't help that he had not entered the throne room alone; beside him came Suzaku, dressed in the uniform of the Knights of the Round and displaying the blue cloak of the Knight of Seven. If any among the gathered felt relief at the former student's presence, it ended up being short lived when cast against the cold, emotionless gaze Suzaku gave out.

Even so, Milly remained undeterred. In fact, if anyone had been paying attention to her, they would have noticed that the intensity behind her own eyes had just tripled upon seeing the Emperor and his new seventh knight.

As soon as the Emperor took his seat, with Suzaku coming to his own place beside the throne, the same guard spoke out again. "Milly Ashford, approach the throne!" he ordered.

Silently, Milly followed the order, moving out from her place amongst the other students toward the center walkway, ignoring the fearful expressions of Rivalz and Shirley as she did so. Not unlike the convicted being presented at her own sentencing, she moved down the walkway, until she was just before the Emperor, who looked down upon her like a righteous judge. It didn't take much for her to remember that this was the same man who had, upon the death of Empress Marianne, stripped her family of its holdings, forcing them to seek exile in the Far East. Just as he was the same man who had cast out Lelouch and his sister over an childish but warranted outburst, one made by a nine year old boy still mourning his mother's demise.

For his part, Charles narrowed his eyes at the former aristocrat, the last direct scion of the once great House of Ashford. Despite the intensity that he cast down upon the granddaughter of Reuben Ashford, the former Grand Duke of New York, his expression was otherwise unreadable; he neither projected displeasure nor acceptance toward the young woman, yet at the same time his gaze was not one of indifference. The best anyone could claim was that he showed certain interest in Milly, yet not the kind one would expect from His Majesty; as opposed to the predatory fixation of a beast stalking wounded prey, which the Emperor often projected, he instead looked upon the woman with simple curiosity, almost as if he did not know what to expect from the newcomer (as impossible as it would have sounded). Obviously this only made everyone else all the more uncomfortable.

From there, the audience waited with baited breath. Whatever the His Majesty's intentions were, they would soon be finalized in the next few moments.

"…Kneel." came the Emperor's command.

Despite the command, Milly remained standing. His eyes narrowing further, the Emperor repeated his command. "I said kneel."

Milly then spoke up for the first time. _"...No."_

All of a sudden a bleak chill enveloped the throne room, as the sound of minute gasps emanated from the gathered; even Suzaku could not keep his eyes from widening at the former student council president's defiance. Responding automatically, the two flanking Imperial Guardsmen moved down and crossed their rifles in front of Milly; however, they withdrew as soon as their liege held up his hand, indirectly stating there was no need for that.

Now _especially_ curious, yet somehow not showing any displeasure, the Emperor asked the apparent question. "Why?"

It was only then that Milly looked up to meet the Emperor's gaze, to which she no longer withheld her fury. For all of her bubbly eccentricity, Milly Ashford was a force to be reckoned with now. "One only kneels before his or her rightful ruler." she replied, fury echoing from her voice as well; even the Imperial Guardsmen couldn't help but feel shaken at its tremor. "I do _not_ recognize you as _mine_ , nor of those behind me."

"Milly, don't do this." Suzaku calmly pleaded, trying to save his friend before she sealed her fate. "Nothing will be gained from..."

 _"Shut up Suzaku!"_ Milly bellowed with such force that it broke through Suzaku's temperance, causing him to visibly recoil in shock. The withering glare that she cast over the Knight of Seven would have forced a lesser man to his own knees. _"If you were as righteous as you pretend to be, you would be down here in my place!"_

She then looked back at the Emperor. Once more, he kept his watch over her, projecting no forward emotion to her defiance, though at the same time he was not indifferent. She took that as an invitation to continue.

 _"Your Majesty..."_ she managed to say, resisting the urge to spit the title out like a poison. "...seven years ago you stripped my family, which has served the Crown since the time of Empress Elizabeth I, of its possessions and its honor, all for its association to the late Empress Marianne. By doing so, you forced us to leave the Homeland and venture to an unknown realm to start anew, in the hope of gaining whatever prosperity we could amidst our disgrace. To say those years were difficult would be an understatement, as many sacrifices were made in order to create Ashford Academy and keep it running through the years, especially in the aftermath of the Second Pacific War."

Her gaze grew even more intense. "During that time, I, along with the rest of family, had grown to hate this Empire and its rulership. For the first time in my life, I felt I had come to know what true hatred was, and though my family continued to labor under the belief that we could regain our nobility, I myself wanted absolutely nothing to do with that which had betrayed us and cast us out. As far as I was concerned, there could be no possible redemption for Britannia, and only out of obligation to my family did I make any effort in attempting to reclaim our peerage." again she looked to see if any emotion had entered the Emperor's eyes, and again she saw nothing. "For over seven years of my life, I had thought that would be the extension of my hatred. I believed I could not possibly come to hate you and your nation any more than I already had, just as I also believed that Britannia could not possibly do any more to earn my enmity than it had already done."

She took a breath before coming to the ultimatum. "But now, as I stand here before you, in the wake of all that has occurred..." she said, her voice now hollow. _"...I realize just how wrong I was."_

Now she was visibly trembling. "What you took then pales in comparison to what you took just over a month ago." she snarled, the hate even clearer now. "As much as that land and those titles were worth to my family, they're _nothing_ compared to the loved ones you _stole_ from these children before you!" she gestured out to the other students behind her. _"Just how much of their families did you take from them!? How many fathers, mothers, brothers and sisters did you slaughter, all because you were about to lose one of your own possessions!?"_

Her eyes narrowed further as her voice continually grew louder and louder. _"How do you justify their deaths to them!?"_ she was now shouting, such that her voice echoed around the throne room. _"Are you going to claim 'Britannia Marches On' just like you did at Prince Clovis' funeral!? Or that they deserved death, because they were too weak to survive several thousand kilometers of exploding sakuradite!? Or that they could not survive because they were too inherently 'different'!?"_ she then roared. _"Tell me, Your Majesty!"_

"That's enough Milly!" Suzaku shouted, just as the guards once more moved to seize Milly. Yet again the Emperor's hand raised, holding them back as well as silencing the Knight of Seven, who could only look back at the Emperor in surprise.

At that point, Milly could almost hear the voices behind her; the pleas of her students telling her to stop there, that she did not need to say any more. She could almost see the tears in Shirley's face as she tried to held it in, while Rivalz, his own feelings for her more apparent than ever, looked ready to charge in and shield her from the guards. Even Suzaku, despite all of his actions up to that point, looked torn between staying where he was or leaping down to his friend and protecting her from what would inevitably occur. Essentially, they all knew that if Milly said any more, she would no doubt be condemned to death; it was only a miracle that the Emperor had not ordered her summary execution at that time, for what reasons even she could not fathom.

But even so, they all overlooked one fact: Milly had nothing to lose. She was the last Ashford now, though it was not widely known; her grandfather had led the entire family to Japan in his quest to establish a new foothold there, and thus they had all been present for Operation Nero. With them, the only home she had known for the last seven years, as well as whatever possessions she had gained for herself, were gone. All she had left were those behind her, the select few students the _Avalon_ had evacuated before the fire erupted, and though she knew they wanted her to live, she would rather die than let the Emperor go on without seeing firsthand their rage and loss. If her life was the price to pay for calling out the tyrant before her, then so be it.

It was only then that, much to her own dark amusement, she _finally_ understood why Lelouch had done what he had done seven years ago, as well as how he had felt during.

That realization, as well as the Emperor's silence, allowed her to calm herself somewhat, though the rage still remained in her eyes. She continued. "As the Student Council President of Ashford Academy, as well as the granddaughter of its head administrator, I am both the representative and benefactor of these students; it was...it _is_ my role to ensure their happiness and prosperity, just as it is _your_ role to ensure the prosperity of your empire." she explained, inwardly wondering if Emperor Charles saw himself in that manner. "Thus, their loss, their pain, their sadness... They all fall upon myself to shoulder and bring before you, regardless of what the consequences may be...!"

A collective dread erupted from the students as they realized Milly was about to seal her fate. "For longer than I can remember, I have hated you and Britannia for myself." she went on. "Now... _Now_ , I hate you _even more_ , but this time I do so for _them_. Such that, I swear upon the Ashford name itself..." she seethed, her voice now low but still completely enraged. _"...I will_ never _forgive you!"_

Her hand quickly balled back into a fist _. "For them, I would set out to do what so many had attempted before me...!"_ she went on, continuing to ignore the silent please behind. _"What the Romans, the Normans and the Spanish had failed to do...!"_ she emphasized. _"What Napoleon Bonaparte and his European Union had nearly done...!"_ she could almost hear Shirley and Rivalz cry for her to stop. _"What you feared Zero and the Black Knights would succeed in doing...!"_

Even then, her eyes never flinched from the Emperor's. _"I would...!"_ she let out, before letting out the ultimate declaration. _**"I WOULD DESTROY BRITANNIA!"**_

And so it was done. The words conveyed, the finality established and the silence ever deafening. Everyone knew what was going to happen next, much to their collective horror, as no man or woman could state such words before the most powerful man in the world and expect to be let off without retribution. Just as they also knew nothing on Earth or Heaven could save Milly Ashford from her impending fate now.

Once again however, Milly did not care. In fact, she took some inner solace in the idea that she would be reunited with her family soon. In such case, she only had two regrets: that she would be leaving those behind her to fend for themselves, and that she would never be able to respond to Rivalz's feelings for her. The latter especially stung her on the inside, as out of all the men she had known in her life (including Lelouch), he had been the only who had remained beside her throughout it all, such that his love for her was not only completely clear, but also beyond doubt. Even so, it was still something that she could accept along her trip to the afterlife.

 _I'm sorry..._ she thought, her mind hold a firm image of him behind her, still looking ready to charge the stage the moment the order was given.

However, the order never came, and several minutes of silence passed as a result. And then, at long last, the answer that all had been waiting on came in a completely unexpected form: laughter. With great force, the Emperor let out a laugh, one that began as a slight chuckle, but quickly built up into a roaring fit of jovialness.

Needless to say, a renewed form of astonishment embraced the room's occupants. Milly, who had just resigned herself to her fate, found herself completely unbelieving of what she was seeing before her, while Suzaku, still standing beside the throne, was completely aghast at his liege's response. Even the Imperial Guardsman were entirely unsure of what to make of His Majesty's sudden change in temperament.

And then, the Emperor finally spoke. "Well said." he exclaimed. "Well said, Milly Ashford."

Milly could only look on in shock, a response failing to form in her mouth. But that didn't matter, as the Emperor continued to speak. "Your power and will are completely undeniable, as well as a testament to your House. For however long Britannia has existed, no man, _nor woman_ , has ever dared to speak such open words of defiance before its Emperor." he then smiled down upon her. "I can see why my son is so fond of you."

"Your son...?" Milly was finally able to mutter, still taken completely back. "...Lelouch?"

"Now..." Charles said as he got up from his throne, cape billowing as he did. "This part usually requires one to kneel..." he continued as he walked over to Milly, until he was directly overlooking her. "...but in recognition of your spirit, I will allow you to stand."

And so, before Milly could fathom what was going on, the Emperor proclaimed to the still unbelieving assembly. _"I, Charles zi Britannia, by the Grace of God of the Britannian Empire, Sovereign Head of the Dominion, Defender of the Faith, to all Lords Spiritual and Temporal and all my subjects. Whatsoever to whom these presents shall come greeting, know that I do advance and create Milly Ashford the style, dignity, title and honor of Grand Duchess of New York, and see to it that all titles, peerage and holdings previously held by the House of Ashford, past and present, be returned to her ownership."_

A collective gasp rose from the assembled, as Charles again smiled down toward Milly. "I give back to you all that was lost seven years ago, Grand Duchess Ashford."

Milly could only remain aghast. What had just happened? Had she not spoke out against the Emperor, and all but proclaimed him a monster? Had she not declared her intention to destroy Britannia if she held power? And above all else, had she not resigned herself to die?

All at once, a sickening feeling akin to just being spat on came over her. For seven years, her family had dreamed of reclaiming their former dynasty, even going so far as to arrange a political marriage between her and Lloyd Asplund, the current Earl of Colchester, in order to gain some standing. Yet in all that time, they had made no progress; straight to the end that dream had been out of reach, with her family passing on with the rest of Area 11 as commoners. And now, in light of their collective pyre, alongside those whom Milly had just spoken of, did the Emperor _finally_ deign to return to the Ashford family's honor.

Thus, she felt her rage return to her. "If you're trying to buy back my loyalty..." she started to seethe.

The Emperor was completely unfazed by that. "Your loyalty means nothing."

Again uncertainty crept upon Milly, though she kept her front. "Then why?"

"Why? That is not something you need to know." Charles repeated as he returned to his throne. He then gave off a dominating smirk. "All that matters is that I have returned what is rightfully yours Milly Ashford. Your titles, your land, your honor, all yours once again." that smirk grew even bolder. _"You may do with them as you wish."_

A crack soon appeared in Milly's mask, sensing there was some kind of underlying message there. "I don't understand..."

"You do not need to. Just accept what has been given to you." Charles said, as Suzaku took a step closer to the throne, the Knight of Seven's face once more impassive. "In return however..."

Suddenly, Milly and the others could only watch as the Emperor's eyes flashed red, a pair of bird shaped sigils appearing upon them. _"...there is a price."_


	5. Word Drama V

**Tokyo Settlement  
September 13, 2017**

_It was all for nothing._

That same line repeated over and over as Kallen maneuvered the _Guren Nishiki_ through the still burning ruins of her homeland, refusing to silence. Tears threatened to overwhelm her stinging eyes, but somehow she managed to hold them back. She couldn't afford to cry, no matter how much she wanted to. No matter how much the words thundered within her mind and her soul, more so than the sky overhead head and the broken ground around her. More so than even the end of the world itself.

Even now, as her machine's landspinners ground through the hellfire, it all remained a fixture within her memory. The image of Zero's mask splitting open. His confession that he had, in fact, used the Japanese people – including her – for his own aims. Suzaku claiming that he had lied to all of them, much to his adversary's direct admittance, before the latter pleaded Suzaku for a truce in order to save the kidnapped Nunnally. Suzaku then raising his gun, cursing the Demon King's very existence, only for that very demon to slap a sakuradite bomb to his chest, challenging Suzaku to fire before trying make a truce once more. And finally, an enraged Suzaku proclaiming that demon's existence a mistake, causing the opposite gun to rise and both to draw a bead…

With only two distinct "bangs" and the events that occurred thereafter, remaining.

Indeed, It was all for nothing. Everything that Kallen had believed in – everything that she had believed in _him_ – had been but a lie. A lie that had destroyed everything that she had cherished, everything that she had fought for, just as the smoldering ruins around her emphasized. A lie that had cost her heart, and her soul, to say nothing of Japan's.

She wasn't done yet however. In spite of the wanton destruction and the scattered remains of both artificial construct and human bodies – both of which were as far as the eye could see – there were two things that Kallen still held out for. The last two people in the world that truly mattered to her now. She would reach them; through the flames and death, she would get to them and bring them away from it all.

For they were the last vestiges of her life now. The life that Naoto had wanted for all of them, but was denied. The life that Zero had promised to her, but…

 _Mother, father…_ _Please…_ Kallen pleaded as she again forced back her tears, steeling her gaze through her cockpit monitor while ignoring the remnants around her. _Please be alive…_

They had to be alive, especially after her last meeting with her father, right before the SAZ. He had promised her then, after confessing his original regrets, that they would be a family once more. That, once the SAZ was ratified, he intended to divorce his then-wife, cut his ties with the other Stadtfelds back in Britannia and, once she had been rehabilitated and her sentence cleared, marry the one woman he had ever truly loved. They would be a family, a _real_ family, in the new Japan that Princess Euphemia had promised them.

Alas, that new nation would never come to pass, as the following events had ensured. Kallen had originally cursed herself for believing such drivel; that Japan could ever be reborn, as a fair and just nation no less. Whether by the hand of her late brother, a Britannian Princess or a self-proclaimed Demon King, it was a promise that was doomed to never be kept. The burning hell around her further reinforced that realization, as did the field of dead within.

Even so, Kallen still had some remnant of hope, a small light that she could reach toward through the darkness. Her father had been visiting her mother during the SAZ; in fact, he wanted to watch it with her. See history made by her side, or something to that effect. Regardless, he had remained there with her, even as the whole of Tokyo fell out around them – literally – and the Black Rebellion had erupted in full force. Thus they were there now, having remained undercover even through the destruction. Waiting for her to find them.

So she grasped onto that one feint light and moved the _Guren_ forward. Wading through the destruction and the dead, so that they she may reach that one thing that mattered now. She could figure out what to do afterward later, she resolved to herself, managing to keep herself composed even as the number of corpses seemed to increase around her. So long as…

And then she turned the corner, where she would find her providence. Instead, as her despair reemerged from deep within, she found only anguish. _No…!_

There, directly in front of her now, had been St. Luke's General Hospital. The building was still standing technically, but that hardly mattered. One side of it had been blown away by a detonation, while the other half was completely enshrouded in flame. Her mother's room had been in the former half.

And just like that, the light was snuffed out, leaving only darkness. Such that Kallen could only hold her gaze onto the burning ruin, her breathing almost stilled and her eyes blank and empty. The tears now streamed down her cheeks at last, but they went otherwise noticed. She could only look out through the _Guren_ 's main camera toward where the last two vestiges of her hope, and her will, had once been.

Only after what seemed like an eternity did she at last move, her head lowering down, eyes squeezed shut as she wept in near silence. There really was nothing left for her now, for everything had been taken from her. Everything, and everyone, she had believed in and fought for were now gone. Swept away at one point or the other, whether by Britannian arms or an exploding wave of sakuradite. She had nothing more, and because of that, there was nothing. Nothing but sorrow and suffering.

"Damn it!" she screamed, almost bashing her hands against the _Guren_ 's controls in one final bellow of rage. It too waned fast; there wasn't even any point for that. _"Damn…it…!"_

Once upon a time, she had known it would ultimately come to this. Knew precisely that it would end like this, for there could be no other conclusion. Naoto's death had instilled that knowledge into her, and for the longest time she had simply accepted it, and her place in it. Effectively resolving herself to die, like her brother had, for a dream that could never be made true.

Only for _he_ to enter in and change everything. Only through him had she forgotten that truth, and had actually dared to _believe_. Believe that she would not die in emptiness, but could live and fight for a dream that was possible. And much more, a dream that she could live in thereafter. Especially…

She shook her head as she forced back those particular emotions. In the end, that too had been an unfulfillable dream in itself. One that she had either been too stupid or too deluded to realize.

And so, forcing herself to move through her ongoing cries, she reached out and tapped her controls for what would be the last time. A moment later, a specific screen, one that displayed a ten second countdown, appeared on her central monitor. After a few more key taps, the countdown began. As did the final moments of Kallen Kouzuki's existence.

Still crying muffled tears, she watched as the numbers drew less and less, gradually making way toward the detonation of the _Guren_ 's Yggdrasil drive. At the very least there was still that. It would be a quick death – something that did not always come in battle – and it would spare her from all that would follow. Being forced to live on as an empty shell, alone and devoid of any form of happiness and companionship.

In fact, she dared hope, if only one last time, that it would not actually be the end for her. That, if at all possible, it would allow her to reunite with her family. In a place well removed from the hate and suffering of this world. This world that _he_ had promised to change, one way or another, but had fallen short as well. This world that would be forever behind her. As with its evil.

Thus as the seconds dwindled closer, Kallen closed her eyes and waited. Just as the timer at last hit the three second mark. _Two… One…_

Only the awaited detonation did not come. Opening her bleary vision, Kallen could only look on and see that the timer had frozen right in the last second. The indicator reading "SELF-DESTRUCT OVERRIDDEN" in Japanese overhead.

 _What!? How!_ she mentally stammered, hands flying over the controls to enact a system check. There was no way _that_ could have been damaged as well, could…?

"I'm sorry," a voice from outside spoke as its bearer casually walked before her machine, her hand raising a remote toward her main camera. "But it's not yet time for you to die Kallen."

Camera zeroing in on the intruder, Kallen suddenly shouted over the loudspeaker. **"You!"**

"Indeed," C.C. exclaimed with equal casualness as she remained standing in front of the _Guren_. In spite of all that was happening, the mysterious woman was very much out in the open in only her devicer suit, not even wearing a breather mask. Yet she seemed entirely unaffected by the smoke and brimstone, as though it were but a surrounding breeze.

" **Why!?"** Kallen demanded as she had the _Guren_ redraw its fork knife. **"What more could you want with me!?"**

C.C. responded as though the answer were obvious. "As I said, it's not yet time for you to die," she explained simply, while taking a side glance around her surroundings. "While I admit that this, among other things, is a major setback, I assure you that it does not end here. That there _still_ remains much to be done."

She then looked back toward the _Guren_ 's blue eye cameras. "Thus, I cannot afford for you to die here," she posited. "And neither can Zero."

" **Zero is dead!"** Kallen bellowed as she drove her right _Sutherland_ arm to smash the woman where she stood. Right before the blue metal fist could make contact however, C.C. made a simple leap back, narrowly avoiding being smashed into paste. The move admittedly took Kallen by surprise, but that didn't stop her. **"Everyone is dead!"**

She lashed out, over and over, yet C.C. evaded each and every attack. As though she were dodging the arms and legs of a human rather than a four meter tall war machine.

" **There's nothing left!"** Kallen continued to roar, even launching her slash harken after her insipient target. Only for C.C. to simply sidestep around the rocket anchor, and then jump away as Kallen smashed her fork knife blade into the ground where she had been. **"All of it! Japan, my family, my friends, everything that I loved! All of it gone!"**

She fired off a grenade, but C.C. dodged that as well. **"What more can I possibly fight for!?"** she demanded as she pressed her attacks. **"What more can I live for now!?"**

"For Zero," C.C. offered as she sidestepped another right fist. "You fought for him before. Why not continue to do so?"

Kallen felt her fury bubble even further. **"Zero's dead!"** she roared as she slashed her fork knife at C.C., only for her to handspring away. **"And even if he weren't, it still wouldn't matter!"**

"Why? Because he 'lied' to you? 'Used' you?" C.C. inquired, jumping away from another fork knife attack. "Fine, he had ulterior motives, and he wasn't exactly forthcoming about them. But that doesn't change what he ultimately aimed for."

" **And what was that!?"** Kallen demanded as she fired her slash harken again. **"That 'just' and 'peaceful' world he kept preaching about!? Or vengeance against Britannia for whatever reason!?"**

C.C. shrugged. "I would think you, most of all, would know the answer to that Kallen."

Again the Red Dragoness felt her rage surge. Letting out a great and terrible roar, she launched the _Guren_ after her opponent at full speed. Its right fist raised high and ready to smash at last.

Yet again the fist did not connect however. Right as it came upon her, C.C. jumped and landed on the outstretched arm, then moving into a dash. She ran up the entire length of the arm, coming upon the back cockpit block, before Kallen could realize what was even happening. Then, with another press of the remote, she tapped the button and caused the cockpit hatch to open.

The results were to be expected, though with a minor twist. Now exposed to the burning air, Kallen's lungs hitched in oncoming asphyxiation. However, she barely paid attention to this, instead drawing her Luger – the prized family heirloom her father had given her in their last meeting – took aim and fired a shot. One that launched directly into C.C.'s chest.

Thus, as she unconsciously struggled for breath, Kallen was taken back to see C.C. _not_ fall from the bullet. Though she swayed somewhat, the green haired woman remained standing, even as her white devicer suit became stained with blood. All while her amber eyes looked on without forward emotion as Kallen – between her physical exhaustion and her present inability to gather oxygen – at last blacked out…

* * *

Eyes blinking open, Kallen was quick to realize that, no matter how much she wished it, she was not dead. Not only was the whole of Japan still burning around her, but she was able to breathe again, an oxygen mask now covering her face. Thus, as her eyes blinked into focus, she pulled raised herself up and into a sitting position. Right before looking over to the one that had "saved" her. "Why?" she demanded.

Sitting across from her in front of the now inactive _Guren_ , C.C. shrugged. "As I said over and over, it's not yet time for you to die," she answered back plainly.

Straightening up further, Kallen saw that the opposite woman was still not wearing so much as a rebreather against the smoke and fumes. While the blood stain on her chest had greatly enlarged.

In turn, C.C. noted Kallen's confusion toward her, but ignored it for the time being. She could, and would, explain that later. "Zero is not dead," she pressed on, regaining Kallen's attention to her words. "In spite of all that has happened, he too will live past this."

Kallen sniffed at those words. "It doesn't matter," she said as she stared at the ground in disdain. "Even if Suzaku spared him, he will still be executed once he's taken back to Britannia…"

"No he won't," C.C. countered. "In fact, he could not be in a safer place now."

Upon Kallen's responding disbelief, C.C. clarified. "As impossible as it may seem, I speak the truth," she emphasized. "The Emperor will spare Zero. And much more, he will ensure his survival for that much longer."

"So what?" Kallen exclaimed derisively. "Even if he does live, it doesn't matter."

She again glanced toward the burning hospital. "Nothing matters anymore."

C.C. raised an eyebrow toward her charge. "You surprise me Kallen," she spoke observantly. "I would have thought you, of all people, understood…"

Kallen actually laughed at that insinuation. "I only _thought_ I understood," she snarled, bring her knees up to her chest. "Only now, however, do I realize the _actual_ truth."

"Which is?" C.C. asked with clear intent.

At that question, Kallen opened her mouth to give a long due answer. That it had been a lie from the very beginning. That Zero had been using her, those she fought alongside and those she fought for. That his brave new world of peace and prosperity was but bait to attract idiots like her into doing his bidding, as they all should have expected from the beginning. That they had all paid the ultimate price for their stupidity, their daring to hope in the supposed vision of a false savior. That she, perhaps most of all, has paid the ultimate price for her own blind faith; her sheer stupidity in daring to believe, and…

However, just as she was about to utter the first word, a certain memory entered her mind. That of Yokosuka, the infamous last stand of the JLF. Specifically where she entered that hangar and encountered Zero, sans his mask and uniform, sitting against the wall in seeming contemplation. And, dare she continue to believe, remorse.

That remembrance alone silenced those terrible, terrible words in Kallen's throat before they could ever be uttered. As a result, her expression softened considerably as she looked back toward the ground, her eyes now quite distant. As well as in deep contemplation of their own.

"I see," C.C. exclaimed, just managing to resist smiling. That, more than anything else, had been the answer that she had hoped for.

Frowning as she realized, perhaps, she had understood all along, Kallen closed her eyes in resignation. "I want to know everything Cera," she spoke softly but determined. "Everything."

C.C. nodded. "And you will," she replied in approval. "Once we're among the other survivors of course."

She then considered for a moment. "However, I can tell you this much now. It's actually C.C."

Kallen looked up with a raised eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"My name," C.C. clarified. "It's C.C."

The Red Dragoness blinked again, this time at perplexity. "C.C…" she repeated, looking down again. This time however, her expression was one in newfound bemusement. "That's a very strange name."

This time C.C. did smile. "I'm a very strange girl."

That earned a light, yet very much legitimate laugh from Kallen. Right as the sound of an approaching VTOL could be heard from above.


	6. Word Drama VI

**Berlin Palace**   
**Berlin, State of Germany, European Union**   
**September 12, 2017**

Always having been one of the most magnificent buildings within its titular city, the Berlin Palace, or _Stadtschloss_ as it was occasionally referred to, had taken many forms throughout history's progression. Having originally begun life as a "modest" fortification in 1443, whose construction had been personally overseen by Friedrich II of Brandenburg, it was then largely demolished in 1538 at the auspices of Joachim II Hector, who then directed it to be redesigned into Italian Renaissance form. Friedrich Wilhelm, the Great Elector, and Friedrich I of Prussia would make their own alterations during their reigns, as did later Prussian kings Friedrich Wilhelm I and Friedrich II, though the latter was more renowned for favoring Sanssouci in nearby Potsdam.

By some miracle, the palace would survive the events of the early 19th century, having been effectively overlooked during the Age of Revolution and the Bonapartic Wars. Upon Germany being ratified as a full European state, the palace would become its governor's residence, beginning with Gebhard Leberecht von Blücher and continuing on as such through the days of Otto von Bismarck and Paul von Hindenburg. It would remain thusly until after the Soviet War, where it would at last evolve into the new official residence of the President of the European Union when the capital was moved from Paris to Berlin and would stay in that capacity ever since.

Indeed, Berlin Palace was well and truly the ultimate seat of power within modern Europe, much as Versailles and Tuileries had both been once upon a time. Power that any and all invited within its halls could and would benefit from, or at least, seemed to think as such. Much to her thinly veiled derision.

Standing against the sidewall of the banquet room, well away from the crowd and with a pocket copy of _Panzer Greift An_ in hand, the newly promoted Lieutenant Colonel Leila Malkal ever remained the outsider. An anomaly among the various upper-class partygoers, she somehow managed to both standout and remain anonymous through the celebrating. Only select few dare bring her up as the subject of their idle conversations, and it was mostly to take note of her wearing her Army uniform at their gathering, though the rank insignia on her shoulders and her reputation as a rising number within the Wehrmacht dissuaded most of the slander.

Again however, it was of little concern to her as she continued to flip through her book. Though _Panzer Greift An_ was obviously dated in the age of knightmare warfare, Leila did well to read and absorb its contents. After all, it had been written by one of the best commanders and strategists Europe had produced; a man who, in Leila's opinion, had foreseen the future in rapid armored warfare. Certainly enough wisdom for her new _Kampfgruppe_ to benefit from, even if their hardware was as different from a _Tiger_ tank as _Märzenbier_ was from _Eiskaffee_. Besides, the book was far more captivating, not to mention entertaining, than the idle conversations of the partygoers.

"You know," a new voice spoke up as its owner approached with two beverages in hand. "There is something about a woman at a party reading Erwin Rommel's tactical writings…" he then offered one of the glasses, which if Leila wasn't mistaken appeared to be higher quality _Apfelschorle_. "That says 'keep your distance.'"

Responding with a bland expression, the young Colonel took the offered glass. "Why _Oberleutnant_ Hyuga, you do have a sense of humor," she exclaimed just as blandly before taking a drink. It was sweet and smooth, just the way she liked it.

Taking that in stride, Lieutenant Akito Hyuga turned to glance at the other attendees. "This is my first time inside the _Stadtschloss_. Pretty much what I'd expect from a state function," he couldn't help but sniff in his own derision, but did well enough to keep it between himself and his superior. "Is this to celebrate the formation of our _Kampfgruppe_? Or all that's been happening in Area 11?"

Leila did well not to fidget at that last mention, though a tinge of sympathy crossed her otherwise melancholy expression. "I don't know what they're celebrating," she exclaimed, taking another sip of her carbonated apple juice. "Though one thing is quite clear."

"And that is?" Akito inquired curiously.

Leila's eyes scanned over the crowd once more, again finding the same result. "Look around," she said, somewhat despondently. "We're the only two soldiers here…"

" _Not_ entirely true _Frau Oberstleutnant_ ," another, far more powerful voice than Akito's entered in. At that, both soldiers turned to see an all too certain man, accompanied by an equally certain woman, come up to meet them both. "Though you and the _Oberleutnant_ appear to be the only ones in uniform, I assure you that you are both far from the only soldiers present."

Suddenly well aware they were being addressed by a superior – formerly a _direct_ superior for one of them – both the shocked Leila and rather taken off guard Akito snapped to attention.

"My apologies _Herr General!_ " Leila stammered as both she and her subordinate snapped parade ground salutes. "We were not expecting to see…"

To that, Rommel let out a bellowing laugh as he returned their salutes with his own. "Still as firm as ever, in spite of your promotion," he answered back, ensuring to both that he meant no harm. "Come, be at ease. This is supposed to be a party, is it not?"

As both Leila and Akito relaxed, Rommel continued. "And to answer your previous inquiry, _Oberleutnant_ , this party is not meant to 'celebrate' anything per se."

He gestured toward a certain group of attendees. Among the latter was a man that the four did well to recognize. Friedrich Kessler, the newly elected President. "Rather, it is an informal gathering of the Nationalists and their supporters and sycophants, and any and all who wish to draw favor or lifeblood from them."

Rommel couldn't help but sneer toward the somewhat distant group. _"Schweine,_ all of them," he stated under his breath, making his own distaste even clearer.

The General then turned back to Akito, giving the junior officer a conspiring glance. "Of course, you didn't hear any of that from me."

Akito nodded in confirmation. "I know nothing, _Herr General_."

Rommel gave a smaller laugh at that particular quote. "Very good _Oberleutnant_ , a response worthy of a European Cross," he exaggerated, or so both Akito and Leila chose to believe. He turned back to the latter. "I trust the rumors are true then? You have more like Lieutenant Hyuga in your muster?"

"Indeed I do _Herr General_ ," Leila spoke with utmost pride now. "Though I'm afraid they're not all as…poised as _Oberleutnant_ Hyuga, rest assured my _Kampfgruppe_ benefits deeply from many such as him."

She then took on her own conspiring gleam. "I intend to make it apparent at the nearest convenience."

"And I very much look forward to seeing that Leila," Rommel stated, beaming with pride of his own as he rested his hands upon his former subordinate's shoulders. "I admit it will be quite difficult to go on without you, but I've always believed you would make one of our fair army's best."

He then gave a reaffirming squeeze to either. _"_ And for that to be, you must run not with my pride, but with your own pack _, kleiner Wolf."_

Leila gave off her own smile, appreciating the General's reference. " _Danke_ sir," she replied simply as Rommel retracted back, suddenly finding herself hesitant. It took another moment for her to make her next request.

"Though if I may say so, Teutoburg isn't _that_ far away from El Alamein. At least not as much as our communications apparatuses would allow," Leila pointed out, as though it were actual fact. "If at all possible, I would very much appreciate the occasional game."

"And the occasional visit here in Berlin I hope," Gabby added on just as her husband was about to reply his agreement. "For things like dinner, civilian entertainment and all things strictly apolitical and non-war oriented. The better parts of life that you valiant soldiers so easily forget."

Both Leila and Rommel couldn't help but chuckle. "Of course, _Frau Stadtratin_ ," Leila answered back, expression warming that much more. "Far be it for me to forgo family back home."

That visibly touched the Rommels, with Joachim beaming with further pride while Gabriella took on her own tears. Observing the interaction between the three, it wasn't hard for Akito, who could only smirk to himself through all of this, to understand the emotion between the three. After all, as had been elaborated on, his promoted superior had long been a prodigal student; one who had studied under the Desert Lion himself.

Despite graduating at the top of her class at Wehrmacht University Munich, then-Lieutenant Malkal had long been stigmatized by her very non-European heritage. Indeed while she spoke with a European accent and certainly acted the part, it wasn't hard to see that Leila Malkal – formerly Leila Breisgau, and before that Leila Baldwin – was as Britannian as a cup of Earl Grey, the daughter of a onetime noble family that had fled to Europe upon running afoul with some long-forgotten prince or princess. As a result, much of her early career had been spent in Central Command, where she was bounced around from one position and assignment after another. Seemingly doomed to spend her entire military tenure as an anonymous bookkeeper, and just as quickly passed over.

Fortunately, that was far from the end of it. Taking advantage of her anonymity, Leila developed a false internet identity and took part in various strategy simulations within Central Command, oft times against officers of much higher rank, as well as published several tactical writings on military-oriented bulletin boards. By the time anyone deigned to investigate the mysterious "ghost" that "haunted" Central Command, copies of her crowning victories – of which there were numerous examples – and writings were being passed around the whole of the Wehrmacht, with more than one higher-ranked officer commenting on them. That being said however, she was still found out and set for a dishonorable discharge had it not been for the intervention of several men and women in key positions throughout the Army. Among them had been the great-grandson of Erwin Rommel himself, who – much to the displeasure of many others interested in taking the young Lieutenant under their wing – managed to swipe her away to North Africa when nobody was looking.

From that point on, the once derided "Malkal girl" would learn from Europe's master of desert warfare, among various other forms, eventually becoming one of the European Army's forefront commanders and tacticians herself. An up and coming star that was already but two steps away from general rank, as well as the commander of the deadliest _Kampfgruppe_ ever conceived. Even the usually detached Akito would be lying if he had claimed _not_ to be impressed. Like the General, he too anticipated seeing his superior in more direct action…

"Leila!" yet another voice spoke up from beyond. "Is that the one and only _Frau_ Leila Malkal?"

To that, the four turned to see two other men making their way through the crowd toward them. Immediately recognizing them, Rommel espoused a flat smirk to himself. _Speaking of family back home that have been forgone…_

"Now why didn't you call ahead to say that you would be coming?" Daniel Malkal exclaimed as he and his brother Stefan came up to meet their "baby" sister. "It's been a whole year since we last saw you!"

"I know," Leila admitted, suddenly uneasy to have her adopted siblings present. Not that she had a problem with these two – far from it, she loved them rather dearly – but if they were there, then… "It's been too long Daniel, and you too Stefan."

Purposely ignoring her discomfort – as he knew where exactly it was being directed – Daniel pressed on. "Leila, why on earth did you decide to wear _that_ to a perfectly good party?" he spoke with chiding exasperation toward his sister's uniform. "I would have hoped you would put aside such boorish attire!"

To that, Leila remained openly defiant. "My uniform is considered formal attire."

"And if nothing else," Rommel mildly reentered, causing Daniel and Stefan to nearly double-take. "It stands her out from the crowd quite well. Don't you agree?"

Suddenly finding himself in the presence of one of Europe's most famed military commanders, Daniel nearly tripped over himself as he stammered. "Of course _Herr General!_ I did not mean…"

"No, no, you didn't," Rommel waved him off casually, causing Daniel to visibly relax. He then reached out his hand, to which Daniel and then Stefan both eagerly took. "Leila has spoken of you two off and on since she first arrived in El Alamein. Suffice to say I truly appreciate what you and your family have done for her."

"The honor is quite ours _Herr General_ ," Stefan spoke up for the first time, smiling affectionately toward his sister. "Leila has been nothing but a godsend to our family."

"Indeed," Daniel concurred with the same affectionate smile. It was clear to Rommel that the pair very dearly loved their adopted sister. "Though we were both hoping her time in the _Heer_ would have done something about her tone."

Rommel chuckled once more as Leila looked away in faux irritation. "Well, I'm afraid there's no helping that. _Oberstleutnant_ Malkal's tongue has always been the sharpest of instruments."

"Not helped by her former commanding officer, as you can imagine," Gabby added on with a sly grin of her own, earning a heartened laugh from the two older Malkals, especially as Rommel rubbed the back of his head in projected awkwardness.

"As I live and breathe!" yet one more newcomer spoke up in a very slurred voice, causing the gathering to shift their attention yet again. Right as another man, accompanied by two apparent escorts and the overriding scent of alcohol, came into sight.

"Well, if it isn't my little sister," the man slurred further as he shoved his two arm hangers away, so that he could saunter up into the group. Oblivious to the apprehensive gazes from his two elder brothers and the much darker glances from Akito and the Rommels.

"Brother…" Leila muttered in distaste, suddenly finding herself confronted by the very man she had hoped to avoid. Both there and throughout the rest of her life. "Hello Ioan."

As Ioan Malkal made his way up, his wavering eyes suddenly took note of the uniformed Japanese man beside his sister. "Ah, so this is the Lieutenant Eleven," the drunk exclaimed. "The one we've been hearing rumors about all over…"

Forcing back the urge to exhale, Leila could only introduce. " _Oberleutnant_ Hyuga."

Akito did well not to wince as the full bloom of alcohol reached his own nostrils. "Nice to meet you."

Again, Ioan appeared oblivious. "The pleasure is mine _Oberleutnant_ ," he proclaimed before bowing overdramatically. "I'm Ioan Malkal, one of Leila's big brothers, as well as the Minister of Economics and Energy."

He then leaned closer in, such that Akito could almost taste his schnapps ridden breath. "Which means it would take but a word from me to have you stripped of that pretty uniform and sent back to Area 11 in chains."

"Ioan!" Leila snapped, causing the older man to turn his drunken gaze back upon her.

"And what would be wrong with that dear sister?" Ioan inquired as he moved toward her again. "Perhaps you like this particular Eleven? Another one of your many bed warmers in the Wehrmacht, _ja_?"

He then reached out to grasp his sister's arm, only for Rommel to grab the hand instead.

"I believe you are grossly overstepping your bounds, _Herr Minister_ ," Rommel stated in warning, a low, very lion-like growl that would have unnerved Ioan had he been sober.

To this, the self-declared Minister burst into laughter. "And who are you supposed to be, _mein Freund_?" he let out, looking the General up and down with unfocused eyes. "Don't tell me you're fucking her too…!"

"That's enough Ioan!" Daniel called out as he and Stefan both came between their drunken brother and the rest.

"That's General Rommel you're speaking to!" Stefan tried to warn.

Again Ioan burst into laughter. "Nice try Stefan!" he exclaimed in loud disbelief. "Everyone knows General Rommel is back in Egypt mucking around in the sand!"

Somehow, Ioan managed to push his way through his two brothers so he stand face to face with Rommel. "Really, _mein Freund_ , you don't need to be shy about it," he pressed on. "My sister would have been a mere _Gefreiter_ if she hadn't sucked off every officer past _Hauptmann_. What's one more such as you?"

Rommel actually smiled as the drunk continued to mouth against him. A grin that, much like the gleam in his eyes, was as unfriendly as it was predatory, not unlike a lion gazing down over a dazed and confused antelope. Even Akito couldn't help but feel his blood run cold against that sheer, building viciousness.

"I mean, she really is that good, _ja_?" Ioan continued, his eye shifting passed Rommel back to Leila, who by now wanted to shrink away as Gabriella shielded her from her brother. "Honestly, I'm surprised they didn't post you in Amsterdam, Leila! You could have commanded our forces in De Wallen…!"

"That's more than enough Ioan!" Daniel and Stefan both moved to rein their brother in again. "Behave yourself!"

"Come now! Surely I have only spoken the truth!" Ioan laughed as he struggled against the two. "Isn't that right Leila!?"

Leila glowered back as her elder brother continued to laugh. "If you need to supplement your paltry military pay, you can always climb into my bed!" the drunk was almost bellowing now, causing more than one set of eyes to turn. "That would suit you perfectly Leila!"

Needless to say, it took every ounce of restraint to keep Rommel from decking the bastard then and there, his cabinet position be damned. Fortunately, it wasn't long before he had an excuse.

Thoroughly disgusted with the display himself, Akito – very much without anyone noticing – casually moved over beside the Minister and pretended to trip. The result was his drink sloshing against the Minister's suit jacket.

"Oh," Akito let out in a tone that made it clear he meant none of it. "I'm so sorry."

Recoiling in emerging rage, Ioan looked upon the Japanese soldier with visible hate. "You little…" he growled before making his lunge, which Akito was very much prepared to intercept. "Son of a…!"

Moving in fast, Rommel drove his beefy fist into Ioan's gut, forcing the air out of the Minister's lungs in that single blow. An instant later, the drunk was incapacitated, his body slumping against Rommel's shoulder.

"I'd say you've had more than enough _Herr Minister_ ," Rommel said plainly, as though Ioan had passed out on his own and the General just 'happened' to be there to catch him. "Better call it in for the night, _ja_?"

That seemed to be enough for the crowd, as the onlookers turned back to their own affairs while Gabby, Daniel and Stefan helped to usher Leila away. As Akito followed along with the latter, Rommel carried the Minister's sorry carcass over to one of the nearby entryways, where the "dates" that had been on Ioan's arm before came over to him with two wait staff. The latter then began to haul Ioan away while Rommel addressed the former.

"I'm sure you know what to do with _that_ ," he spoke to the pair knowingly.

" _Herr General_ , it will be our pleasure," the Abwehr woman answered as she and her partner trailed after their thoroughly disheveled 'person of interest.' No they wouldn't disappear him, though Ioan may wish they had when he woke up; that inevitable hangover was going to be the least of his concerns when he saw all the sexual harassment and conduct unbecoming charges leveled against him. Especially when Rommel knew his wife would use her own contacts to add onto that list.

In any case, the matter had been settled, so Rommel returned to the hall. Moving through the crowd, he eventually found the gathering at the other end of the hall. Gabby was now speaking with Daniel and Stefan, while Akito stood close by, watching out for any further offenders. Leila, meanwhile, stood facing one of the great windows, seemingly transfixed toward the night.

Nodding to his wife and the Malkals, and then discreetly saluting Akito as he passed, Rommel once more came before his protégé. "I can see you were not jesting about brother Ioan."

"Unfortunately," Leila sighed as Rommel came to stand beside her, to which she took visible assurance. "I wish I could say my home life was an entirely happy one, but suffice to say I ran off to the Wehrmacht for good reason."

"Indeed," Rommel agreed, shaking his head in sympathy. "Still, whatever your reasons for being here, I believe you made the correct decision. One that the Wehrmacht will benefit greatly from."

Upon Leila turning toward him on that, Rommel again flashed her a smile. "I did not exaggerate before Leila. You are among our best, and many great things surely await you from here on," he said with utmost confidence. "The world is well and truly open to you now, _kleiner Wolf_ , yet I believe you are merely taking your first steps into it."

Leila sniffed, retaining her own pride at her former CO's words. "I cannot help but feel the same about it sir," she confessed. "Though at the same time, I also cannot help but feel hesitant."

"As you should," Rommel nodded in understanding. "The world can be wondrous, but at the same time quite terrible. Such is the very reason the Wehrmacht exists, and people like you and I fight for those who cannot."

Again he rested his hand on her shoulder. "However, I believe you have the strength to make your way through it. And much more, to forge your own destiny, and the destinies of those who follow you," he proclaimed. "That kind of strength is rare, even amongst our calling. Thus I take great pride in seeing it within one such as yourself."

He patted Leila on the shoulder before bringing his hand back. "And as for the rest, you need not worry Leila," he stated, once again knowingly. "As you said, Teutoburg is not at all far from El Alamein."

Leila's smile deepened as Rommel went on. "Whether the occasional game, or direct transport to or from Weisswolf, I will be there," he assured. "Though considering the nature of your _Kampfgruppe_ , I fear you will not have an abundance of free time on your hands."

Leila chuckled at this. "Perhaps not _Herr General_ ," she replied. "But even so, I will have some measure of free time regardless."

Rommel nodded appreciatively to this. As it would be with his biological children – the first of which Gabby was already carrying inside of her – it hurt to see one who had learned much under him grow up and go into the world on her own, no matter how much she and the whole of Europe would be better for it. But even so, he had to admit that hurt was assuaged knowing that this would not be their last meeting together. That, no matter what the future held, they would remain close, whether as master and pupil or fellow soldiers and commanders.

And as for everything else, well, at least she would have men and women like Lieutenant Hyuga to look after her. Many of which had been wrongly displaced following the events of seven years ago, even if Europe had willingly taken them in. Once more going by the Lieutenant's earlier disposition, Rommel knew those men and women would serve Leila loyally, as well as follow her through the jaws of Hell if and when called upon to do so. Which, Rommel mused, could happen any time no…

Suddenly, both Rommel and Leila felt the ground shift from under them. At first both thinking they were imagining it, the quaking greatly expanded in the next few seconds, such that the entirety of Berlin Palace began to throb violently. Glasses and platters fell to the ground, as did more than one party attendant, while the lights flickered from above. Whatever was happening, it was far from the imagination.

 _An earthquake? Here?_ Rommel managed to think as he grasped Leila to hold them both up. Immediately looking back, he saw that the Malkal brothers had done the same for his wife, while Lieutenant Hyuga was already at his commander's side. Which was precisely when Rommel, and those around him, saw it.

At first, it appeared as though dawn was shining through the great windows before them. However, upon the realization that it was only past midnight, Rommel, Leila, Akito, and many others turned back to face the windows. The windows that faced eastward.

There, as they all watched on in horror, the sky seemed to turn ablaze in the far off distance. A cascading tide of orange and yellow seemed to emerge from the horizon, not unlike a great but far away inferno. Shifting and churning through the night, growing and expanding across the whole of the sky, until it appeared as though a second sun had emerged from the Far East.

A great, hellish fire that, even well after the quaking dwindled and the night resettled in its place, would consume the entirety of the world…


End file.
